


Pinky Promise

by metalvsflesh (ZoicZeph)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Blitzcrank is 4, Blitzcrank is pure and really needs his dad rito is just weak to admit it, Childhood Memories, Father-Son Relationship, First Words, Flashbacks, Other, Promises, Viktor has anger management issues, author has no idea what they're doing, pinky promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-15 07:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoicZeph/pseuds/metalvsflesh
Summary: Late in the afternoon, Viktor gets a visit from someone unexpected. With no one else he can trust, Blitzcrank can only hope the Herald still remembers the promise he made four years ago, and is still willing to keep it.After all, a pinky promise can never be broken.





	Pinky Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I worked a couple days on this, but I'm not that good at writing either Blitzcrank nor Viktor, so it may read clunky. It's also quite cheesy, but hopefully it's good! Apologies in advance!
> 
> I'll likely make minor grammar edits in the future.

The muffled ringing of the doorbell pulled the Herald out of his work. He froze for a good minute, processing the shock of it. It wasn’t everyday he got visitors, let alone ones he didn’t hear coming from several streets away. Also any that didn’t try to climb in the window, knock through his walls, kick down the back door, or pick the lock in the front door. Why, it was so rare that someone _rung the doorbell_ that he didn’t even know what his own doorbell sounded like.

A thought crossed his mind, _Did **anyone** still ring doorbells these days?_

To answer his question, the doorbell rang again. It was just your standard, cheery doorbell. Huh. Well, that was certainly something unexpected of this particular house. Viktor set his tools down carefully and stood up from his seat, turning to walk to the front door just across the room. The house was deceptively large, having only four distinct rooms: the central room (which had the kitchen, living room/dining room, and Viktor's home workbench), bathroom, main bedroom, and another bedroom which currently was being used as a storage room. Viktor bought it due to the fact it was right across the street from his laboratory. Therefore, it was only a short walk to work, and if he had an epiphany whilst at home he could easily get to his more sophisticated equipment to document it.

For good measure, Viktor checked through the door's fish-eye lens in hopes to catch a glimpse of who it could possibly be. All he got out of it was a gray-brown blur.

 _That isn’t useful in **any** regard,_ Viktor thought, feeling a bubble of anger forming in the middle of his chest. His grip on the doorknob tightened as he stared at the smog-covered lens, mentally reminding himself not to not get angry over something he can easily fix. _I’ll do it after this._

The Herald took a deep breath before opening the door and giving his best _Please Go Away_ face, “What do you-"

"Hello."

It was then that the ‘conversation’, if you could call it that, halted. Today was the day the Great Steam Golem, Blitzcrank, decided to pay him a visit. He was noticeably more dinged up and grimy than Viktor had remembered. That was good. It meant he was fulfilling his duty of helping Zaun to the utmost of his ability. Not having to worry about a fragile form, the golem could throw itself into any oncoming danger and get out of it with only a minor scratch. Of course the sheer  _amount_ of scratches was.. slightly worrying. It _had_ been years since they had seen one another, however. Face-to-face at least.

Though he would never openly admit it, Viktor always read up on Blitzcrank's latest feats in the paper, and kept a framed picture of the golem and Stanwick on his desk (granted, you couldn't tell it was Stanwick standing next to the young golem just by looking at it. Being as his portion of the picture was shattered). The paper was the closest thing he had to closure after losing Blitzcrank. The picture was a reminder. A reminder of when they took advantage of him. A reminder of what they took from him.

"I have come to ask you for help."

“With what?" Viktor could barely keep the growl from his voice.

Blitzcrank gave a unsuccessful attempt at an uncertain look. Well, good to know he’s gotten at least slightly better at expressing himself. It felt like only yesterday the automation could barely talk in his own voice, let alone be able to articulate his optics to convey emotion. The observation stung at Viktor’s chest. He felt a little.. proud of him?

 _"I’m lost...”_ Blitzcrank clasped his hands together as he played a voice recording. _“And I’m scared..”_

“You need help with  _navigation_?" the Herald pulled the door back so he could stand at rest. "Go back the way you came."

"That is not what I mean."

"Be more specific, then."

"I.. I do not know how. I am lost. I need help."

"I don't have the time for vagueness, Blitzcrank."

"I am aware my presence is unwanted, but I request that you tolerate me enough to help me. I will leave promptly afterwords. You have my word. I simply-" The Golem cut himself off. Twiddled his thumbs. Viktor waited, but he couldn't keep his frustration from slowly rising with every waking second. This was becoming a waste of time. Time that, more well spent, could've meant something for Viktor's research. "I do not know where to go. I can not think of any other to help me."

That made even less sense, "What?"

Blitzcrank stopped to think some more. Only a handful of seconds passed until his eyes lit up with an idea, "Do you remember what you stated of having credit for my creation?" 

The Herald growled and poised to slam the door, "Don't tell me anything of 'credit'."

 _“Everyone wants to be the one credited with making the world’s first ‘sentient’ AI,”_ Blitzcrank played back a recording of the Herald’s own voice. _“However, if you ask any of them what they will do to ensure it’s wellbeing, to ensure it has a cushion of support to fall back to; they all suddenly fall silent.”_

Viktor halted in his tracks, the door creaking from the sudden stop. Pieces of Blitzcrank's shattered message were starting to go together, however sloppy they did. It was a mess of a message. A rather intangible concept; one - Viktor realized - that _he'd_ even struggle to communicate. No wonder the Golem didn't know how to communicate it.

 

* * *

  

The young inventor scanned the shelves of his lab, looking for his toolbox, “Everyone, myself included, assumed that when the first ‘sentient’ AI is created, it will be as mature as we are. We assumed it would understand all the complexities of life and have the finesse to traverse it as any one adult does simply by nature, and like an adult, we assumed it wouldn't need to be given guidance, as it would guide itself. We assumed it would guide us. We assumed it would show us wider possibilities in our universe, teach us things we never knew, show us paths we never thought to uncover, and support us duteously in the process. We thought it would know everything.

“What no one ever thought of is: what if it knows nothing?”

Viktor located his prized toolbox and pulled it off of the shelf, opening it and selecting a small drill tool and two pliers. He turned to his creation. It was still a work-in-progress, with it still missing parts and needing a bit of welding here and there to tighten it up. Viktor had worked hard these past few days. After activating it prematurely, and then finding out it had developed a sense of self and had original thought and feeling, he needed to buckle down and finish it. There was no way he would let this budding new being suffer through being stuck in it's vegetable-like state when he had purposely programmed it to want to be active and help save lives. That was just torture. _  
_

_“What if it knows nothing?”_ his creation played back to him, it’s left optic jittering as it tried to focus on him. Although it had original thought, the golem was incapable of formulating it’s own speech. It relied on Viktor to give it the words needed to express it’s thoughts. Just the other day he had a session with it where he said a good number of simple sentences and phrases, such as ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘I don’t’, ‘I do’, and so fourth to help the automation express itself, however simply.

“Then we have to teach it,” Viktor answered plainly, but with a soft edge to his voice. “Them.”

_“Them.”_

“Mhm,” Viktor stepped back up on the step-ladder and began to detach the automation’s left optic. It told Viktor earlier the jittery, unstable movement bothered it, and he went out to salvage a replacement part for the movement mechanism. The only one he found that didn’t need extensive repairs only supported a smaller size optic, which would mean the automation’s eyes would be uneven in size, but the automation didn’t mind that.

It shared Viktor’s preference to function over form.

 _“Them,”_ the automation repeated.

“Oh, you’re asking a question?”

_“Yes.”_

Viktor gave a sheepish smile, “My bad.”

_“It is okay.”_

“Are you questioning the usage?”

_“No.”_

“Are you asking if it was a correction?”

_“Yes.”_

“It was.”

_“Okay.”_

Viktor managed to remove the optic and leaned over to the workbench to put the optic down. He then turned back to the golem and started to carefully undo the movement mechanism. He continued to work in silence, the automation staying as still as possible. Steam swirled from its pipes, it’s single attached hand held tightly to its chest - a sign, Viktor has learned, that indicates discomfort. He slowed his working. A reasonable feeling, given the circumstances. Those circumstances being having your eye put out, entirely removed from your head, then replaced with a different eye. Of course, Viktor couldn't have known _then_ how uncomfortable it really was. Regardless of the amount of discomfort it was currently feeling, the Golem kept to itself to let Viktor focus. Likely to speed along the process and, therefore, not have to dwell too long on the unpleasantries.

As with any other cooperation between man and machine, the machine valued efficiency over emotions like fear and discomfort. It was the man who was slowing the process by dwelling too much on his worries, causing more suffering than was required. The inventor forced himself to focus on the task at hand. All his talk of the inefficiency of emotion, and here he was succumbing to it. With his focus properly tuned in, Viktor finished detaching the last bit of the movement mechanism in no time. He stepped down off the ladder and started preparing the replacement for installment, putting the old pieces off to the side.

 _“Will you,”_ the automation peered to Viktor at his workbench with its one good eye. _“Teach it.”_

Viktor stood and turned the eyepiece over in his palm a couple times before handing it up to his third hand, “Teach _you_ , you mean?”

_“Yes."_

“Of course I will,” the inventor climbed back up on the step-ladder and pat the automation on the shoulder. “I alone am responsible for creating you, and so I must take full responsibility for raising you as well. If you ever find yourself lost, come find me. No matter the circumstance, I will help you.”

It’s engines whirred, steam puffing in a happy beat, "Pinky promise?" It asked, in its own voice.

Viktor third hand fumbled with the optic, nearly dropping it to the ground. In a comical show of how clumsy he could be when caught off guard, Viktor tried to catch the eyepiece as it bounced between his other two hands. Eventually, he did manage to catch it. Just barely. His head snapped up to look wide-eyed at the automation, who had begun to bob it’s head and play a recording of Viktor’s own laughter. “You spoke,” Viktor marveled, breathlessly. Shocked silence enveloped him as the Golem continued to cackle wildly to itself. It seemed very proud of it's little surprise.

"Alright, alright, you got me," he gave a dismissive wave, hoping the automation would calm itself.

"Promise."

"I promise."

"Pinky promise?"

Viktor sighed and held out the pinky if his third arm, "Pinky promise." So childish. He supposed the thing was only a few months old, he should feel lucky. It probably didn't even know fully what a pinky promise was.

Sure enough, it stared blankly at the extended hand. Right. Time to teach it another new thing.

"Touch the third finger of your left hand to my extended one."

The golem slowly raised its hand, cycling through putting down all it's fingers until it successfully extended only it's pinky, then gently moved it to touch Viktor's. It still looked confused.

"Now I'll never break my promise. Pinky promises can never be broken. Otherwise, by Zaunite tradition, I will have to burn my hand off."

The golem flinched and looked distraught, _"No."_

Viktor laughed, "Don't worry, I already told you I'd never break my promise."

 

* * *

 

The Herald blinked in a dazed trance. _That's_ what Blitzcrank meant.

He was _lost_ , but not in the physical sense of the word. There wasn't a place he was trying to get to, since he had already gotten where he initially been set to go, he needed a _new_ direction to go. He needed guidance, and the Golem wasn't equipped to find it himself.

 _He's only four,_ Viktor thought. A four year old able to come up with solutions to complex problems that have plagued Zaun for decades, organize the realization of those solutions, and then enact them with vicious efficiency and in an unprecedented completion time all on his own, but he was still only a four year old!

"I.." Viktor mumbled, still reeling from the realization. Blitzcrank wanted to come back. He wanted Viktor's help, or.. to help Viktor? Either way, the Golem wanted.. He wanted to have Viktor as his guardian?

Admittedly, that was a dream come true for the Herald. He was utterly speechless.

Blitzcrank patiently waited for his creator to find the words he wanted to say. Unlike his creator, Blitzcrank had an indefinite patience. While he was quite susceptible to paranoia and fear, Blitzcrank had virtually no temper to be had. He'll wait as long as it takes for someone to find the right words. Janna knows how long it takes him.

"I.. I.." The Herald helplessly stuttered. His gaze lifted to meet the automation's. He understood, but didn't know what to say. "Of course! I can help. I can... Come in, come in. We should... er.."

"Would a suitable term be, 'catch up'?" Blitzcrank offered, after a moment of silence.

"Yes, exactly," Viktor stepped to the side and opened the door to let the Great Steam Golem in.

Could Blitzcrank smile, he would have then, "Thank you."

"I did promise."


End file.
